


Something's Fishy

by AMRV_5



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: HAPPY MERMAY, M/M, merman au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 10:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRV_5/pseuds/AMRV_5
Summary: So Newton's a mermaid. Hermann's not surprised, exactly, but he wasn't expecting it either.





	Something's Fishy

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick fic in celebration of merMay! I might add more to this over the month!

It starts innocently enough. A few comments here and there, altogether unremarkable on their own, but when taken together, worthy of much more attention than Hermann’s been paying. 

The first time it happens, they’re in bed. 

“We gotta get up,” Newton says, stretching gently and yawning. “Hermann. C’mon. Up.”

Hermann grumbles quietly and rolls over so he’s curled around his husband, slipping a cold hand under Newton’s shirt to paw at his belly. “Too early.” 

“Just early enough. Any later and we’re gonna get stuck in traffic. C’mon, I’m serious.” Newton tosses the heavy comforter off and laughs as Hermann shivers and holds him tighter. 

“Freezing,” he mutters, eyes closed against the light coming in through the east window. “How’re you so damned warm all the time?” he asks, nosing at the softness under Newton’s jaw. 

“Natural insulation,” Newton says, patting Hermann’s hand where it cups the underside of his stomach. “Like a dolphin. Good for staying warm in the water.” 

Hermann yawns and nods, the comment barely registering. 

 

Next time it happens they’re at the store. 

“Darling, are you sure this list is right?” Hermann asks, squinting at the little  _ “eggs x12” _ scrawled across the bottom of the paper in Newton’s fluid and nearly illegible script. “It says eggs times twelve. Do you mean a dozen eggs or a dozen dozen eggs? If the former, I don’t think they sell them in iterations of less than twelve, so it’s a bit redundant, and if the latter--” Hermann cuts off, coming to a sudden stop when he realizes Newton is no longer with him. He glances behind him and sees his husband has stopped in front of the meat counter. 

“Everything alright?” he asks as he backtracks. 

“Fine,” Newton says, though he sounds upset. 

Hermann looks between him and the counter. There’s a lobster tank behind the glass, with four of the animals crawling over each other in the murky water. Oddly, each appears to be looking directly at Newton. 

“Do you want lobster for dinner?” Hermann hazards, watching as a lobster raises a rubber-banded claw in a facsimile of a wave.

“No,” Newton says, watching the lobsters intently. “You know I don’t eat seafood. Hey,” he says, flagging down a passing clerk, “how much for all four of these guys?” 

“Uh, we gotta weigh ‘em first but, like, probably a hundred-ish?” the clerk says slowly, appraising the tank. “Yeah. Probably a hundred.” 

“Cool, we’ll take them.” 

“We will?” Hermann asks drily, lacing their fingers together as Newton moves closer to his side. “And why’s that?” 

“They wanted my help. We’re doing a good deed,” Newton says, squeezing his hand before grabbing the large styrofoam box the clerk holds out to him. “You’ll see.” 

Newton detours on the trip back home, to Hermann’s consternation. 

“Our ice cream is going to melt,” he warns, trying not to be disturbed by the sound of the lobsters moving around in the box in the backseat. “The lactose free kind never refreezes right.” 

“Ugh. Don’t I know it,” Newton sighs, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. “Still. Worth it,” he says as they pull up to the beach. 

Newton hops out of the car and grabs the styrofoam box under one arm, offering the other to Hermann to help him walk steadily on the shifting sand. Once they reach the edge of the water, Newton sets the box down and opens the lid. 

“My God, man, be careful,” Hermann says, as Newton pulls one of the squirming lobsters out with his bare hands and sets it on the sand.

“Careful of this little guy? You wouldn’t hurt me, would you, buddy?” Newton coos at the crustacean as he pulls the rubber bands off one of its claws. “Nah. See, he’s friendly.” The lobster miraculously holds still as Newt frees its other claw, and then scuttles off into the surf with a tiny goodbye wave. 

“You could get pinched,” Hermann says, though his voice is filled with far too much fondness for it to be an actual warning. His heart aches with tenderness as Newton lowers each animal gently into the water. “There, now,” he says, pressing a kiss to his husband’s forehead as they head back to their car. “You’ve done your good deed for the day, you lovely little man. Let’s get home and see what we can salvage of the groceries, hm?” 

 

The third time is, frankly, embarrassingly obvious. And also in bed. 

Newton is riding him like his life depends on it, soft thighs bracketing Hermann’s waist, hands pressing into the bed on each side of Hermann’s head. Hermann reaches up to tangle his hand in Newton’s messy, sweat-slick hair and pulls him down for a kiss. When they break apart, Newton gasps “Hey, babe, have I ever told you I’m a merman?” 

“What?” Hermann asks, stopping mid thrust to stare at his husband. 

“Why’d you stop?” Newton asks, grinding down, encouraging him to keep moving. 

Hermann grabs onto his waist to still him, gently kneading his pliable sides. “What do you mean you’re a merman?” 

“I mean I have, like, a cool tail and shit. I can breathe underwater.” 

“Can you,” Hermann says, only mildly confused. It isn’t unusual for Newton to break into a sudden and relatively harmless roleplay situation mid-sex, and he immediately assumes this is a new fantasy Newton has decided to try out on him. 

“Yeah,” Newton says, grinding down again, arching into Hermann’s touch. “I can.”

“Okay,” Hermann says, deciding to roll with it. He runs his knuckles down Newton’s stomach, tracing the lines of his tattoos with the pads of his fingertips. “You’re a merman. Are you a merprince who saves me after I fall overboard my research vessel? Or,” Hermann asks, grunting as he rolls his hips against Newton’s plush, round ass, “am I some lonely oceanographer who happens upon you on the beach someday?” 

This time it’s Newton who stops. “What are you talking about?” he says, panting gently as he briefly adjusts his weight above Hermann. “I’m just telling you that I’m a merperson. I figured you ought to know, since we’re married and all.”

“Sure. Of course. You’re a merman,” Hermann says, internally shrugging and wrapping his arms around Newton’s shoulders. 

 

It isn’t unusual for Newton to get deeply into character while he’s roleplaying. It is, however, unusual for Newton to stay in character the morning after. 

“I gotta say,” Newton says over breakfast, through a mouthful of waffle, “I’m so relieved I finally got that off my chest, man.” 

“Hmm?” Hermann says, looking up from the newspaper’s crossword. 

“The merman thing,” Newton elaborates. “You know, I really didn’t expect you to get on board with that right away.”

“Ah,” Hermann says, “of course. Not all your fantasies are necessarily my cup of tea, but I’m more than happy to assist however I may.” 

“Fantasies?” Newton says, spearing a few strawberries on his fork. “I don’t follow.” 

“Oh, of course, my mistake,” Hermann says, nodding, only slightly phased. “Not a fantasy. You’re really a merman. Of course.”

“I am!” Newton insists, setting his plate down. “Did you think I was joking?” 

“Are you trying to tell me you actually think you’re half-fish?” Hermann asks, disbelieving. “I thought you were trying to roleplay. Like that one time when you said you were a dragon--” 

“Not the same!” Newton says, blushing. “Swear to science, man. I’m telling the truth.” 

“Sure,” Hermann says. And then after a moment of nodding quietly he adds, “But are we still roleplaying? I’m having a bit of a hard time figuring it out.” 

“Unbelievable. Get in the car,” Newton says, tossing his dish in the sink. 

“Actually get in the car, or--” Hermann gestures back towards the bedroom. 

“Actual car,” Newton confirms, pulling on his leather jacket. 

 

“This is ridiculous,” Hermann says, following Newt down the waterfront. 

“Not even,” Newt says, apparently heading for the semi-secluded cove at the end of the beach. “The planet literally gets attacked by aliens, and you draw the line at merpeople?”

“Absolutely,” Hermann says. “I thought you were trying to roleplay. I don’t understand why you insist--”

“Because it’s the truth, man. Jeez. Chill for like, two seconds and I’ll show you.” Newt stops at the entrance to the small cove, evidently taking in the view. It’s not visible from the main beach, walled off by a sweeping dune, and the waves here are gentler than the rest. “Perfect,” he declares, throwing his leather jacket off. 

“Perfect for what, exactly--” he starts to ask, but cuts off as Newton kicks off his jeans and boxers.

“Newton!” Hermann sputters, going red in the face. 

“What?” Newton asks, unbuttoning his shirt, iteratively revealing the soft curve of his stomach. “I don’t want to ruin my clothes when I go in the water.”

Hermann blushes furiously as Newton finishes pulling off his shirt and stands stark naked on the beach. “This is indecent. We’re in public. Someone could walk over here at any moment.”

Newton ignores him, climbing onto a wide, flat rock that juts out into the deep water past the beach. 

“Newton. Come back here at once. Someone is going to see you,” Hermann shouts over the sound of the ocean. 

Newton, finally at the far end of the rock, turns to him and winks, spreading his arms. He dives backwards in a surprisingly graceful arc, entering the water with a barely audible splash. 

Hermann watches the dark water intently, more than half convinced that Newton is pulling an elaborate prank, until a wave breaks and a small harbour seal flops out of the water. 

“Oh,” Hermann says, leaning down slightly as the seal flops over to him, evidently unafraid. “Newton?” he asks, feeling ridiculous. 

The seal stares at him blankly, and then, wonder of wonders, lowers its head in a facsimile of a nod. 

“Ah. I see,” Hermann says to the seal. “I must say I’m feeling slightly misled. There’s a difference between selkies and merpeople, you know.”

“Yeah, selkies are total dicks about the coat thing,” says Newton’s voice, and Hermann straightens up quickly. 

Newton is sitting on the far edge of the rock, his legs hanging over the edge away from Hermann. 

“Are you talking to that seal, dude?” Newton asks before Hermann can say anything, scooting closer and flopping onto his side. 

“Ah. Yes. Well, you see, I thought--” Hermann stops. “Newton.” 

“Hermann,” Newton answers, grinning. “Told you I wasn’t lying.”

Newton, from the waist up, is unchanged. Same tattoos over the same pleasantly rounded torso, same strong arms, same damnably cheeky grin. 

From the waist down, however, his husband has acquired a shimmering, green-gold tail. His fins are nearly translucent, gleaming wetly with a slight opalescent sheen where the light passes through. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Hermann says, shocked, after staring for a few moments in disbelief. 

Newton laughs and preens delicately, tucking a wet strand of hair behind his ear. It’s slightly pointed, now, almost elf-like, and tinged green. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Hermann holds out his hand, an invitation for Newton to come closer. 

Newton complies, shifting over til he’s close enough for Hermann to touch easily, his long tail trailing out into the water. 

“Exquisite,” Hermann breathes. “May I touch you?” 

Newton nods, pleased. His tail swishes gently in the water, stirring up sand. 

Hermann reaches out, slowly at first, to trace the spot along his waist where the scales taper off into soft skin. Newton breathes out a laugh when he spends too long petting at the ticklish skin under the rounded curve of his belly, so he holds Newton’s cheek and pulls him into a kiss instead. “How long have you been like this?” he asks, jumping slightly as he feels Newton’s tail press against his back, taking some of his weight off his feet. 

“Always. Long as I can remember. Man, did my dad and uncle have a hard time keeping me from showing it off all the time as a kid.” Newton’s tail wraps around his waist, and then curls around his ankle. It’s surprisingly agile for its relatively large size. 

“So you can control it,” Hermann says, trying not to let his voice waver as Newton’s tail trails up the inseam of his slacks. “It’s not-- ah, involuntary, then? When you get wet?” 

“No. Can you imagine how bad that would be? I wouldn’t be able to shower without going fully tail out. And you definitely would have found out way sooner.” Newton tugs him closer gently, using his tail to keep Hermann balanced, until they’re pressed chest to chest. “I’m glad you like it,” he says, pressing an earnest kiss to Hermann’s cheek. His eyes glitter in much the same way as his tail; inhumanly green and vivid. 

“Of course I like it. It’s a part of you, darling.” Hermann returns the kiss, stroking the back of Newton’s neck gently. 

“Like it enough to…” Newton trails off, coiling his tail around Hermann’s leg suggestively. 

“Yes,” Hermann says, blushing as a fin brushes against his upper thigh, “but not in public. At home, yes.” 

“At home?” Newton confirms, grinning devilishly, tugging lightly at Hermann’s collar. 

“At home.” Hermann turns his back and hooks Newton’s button-up with his cane, only slightly annoyed to realize his entire front is soaked with seawater.

  
  



End file.
